Double Edge
by Serpent Princess000
Summary: This was just something I wrote and my friend suggested that I post it. It's a tale of a girl whose remembering her past...only to have something more horrible surface in the end.


Summary: Everything was ripped apart in a night. Now, the girl must battle with personal demons in order to hang on to reality. But sometimes...things don't always want to let us go.

Part One:

'_It was a night to remember...because it was the night my life was ruined. The night I lost it all. It's rather hard to explain, you see...it's like I was ripped away from my world and thrown into a world of chaos. The screaming was terrible. I remember them running, and me stuck in a closet, told to be quiet. I was eight. I was only a little girl when my world was turned upside down and my family was murdered. It wasn't a random one either...I know who did it. I'm the only one who can tell them now.'_

She closed her journal and stuck the pen behind her ear. Sighing, she stared out the window into the parking lot. A fly buzzed on the sill. Her concentration was drowning. If only he'd let her out. She pushed her bangs out of her eyes and looks at the floor. _Damn._

"What happened?" He asked, he was leaning forward just a moment ago, tapping his pen against the arm of that stupid wooden chair.

She doesn't answer, just covers her arms more. It's getting cold in the small room, so she notices. It's tiny, pointless things like this that she takes notice of now. She barely talks in classes anymore since she reached her freshman year. Even now, as a senior, she lacks social acceptance.

He's been trying to get through to her for at least forty-five minutes or so. It doesn't seem worth it anymore. He seems to be giving up. He stretches and stares at her. Some type of somber smile creases the sides on his mouth. His expression confuses her. _What's he want? _She finds her mind asking, sounding vaguely arrogant. She watches as he brushes a hand through his brown hair and leans forward again.

"I can't help you if you won't talk..."

She flips open her journal once more and starts to write something down.

__

'This is a nightmare...he won't leave me alone. Just because I've stopped talking, people think I have some type of problem, and just because my parents were killed I'm treated like glass...but what nobody knows is that this glass broke long before they died.'

She glares at him then at the clock. 11:30am. He nods briefly before she quickly gathers her things and heads out the door and to her next class. For some reason she steps into the hallway and looks around, curiously at her surroundings: one long corridor stretches in front of her, and curves left and right. She starts off on the left, her eyes narrowed as she passes others, who don't even bother to keep their voices down.

"-She's so quiet..."

"-She's had a hard life...you know, with what happened when she was fifteen."

One of the three girls to her left, leans in close, her brown eyes widening and her perfect lips curves into a smirk.

"-What happened?"

"Well..."

And then it started. Before she could stop herself, her hand flew out toward the chattering blonde and held her against the row of lockers, both her palms digging into the metal on either side of the girl, blocking her escape. Each girl had the decency to looked mortified at this.

"She doesn't look very happy, does she?" One of the brunettes whispered, and stared at this girl in front of , I was just..." The blonde started but could barely seem to finish her sentence.

"Coleman!" _Let me hit her...she deserves it._

Slowly, the hands on either side of the girl-whose name was apparently Chelsea-were released as the Principal started toward the row of lockers. All three girls fled and not one of them looked back.

"You can't keep doing this...you should know better. Are you even listening?"

__

Just give me the detention and get away from me. I'm really not in a good mood, and I'll hit you if I've got to.

"Samantha!"

Sam picked her head up and looked at the man standing in front of her, attempting to make her feel bad for what she just did. She narrowed her eyes and frowned, before moving past him and setting off down the hall. He called her back but she refused to hear him.

Part Two:

"Late again I see..." muttered Mr. James, the history teacher. He didn't very much like Samantha...she nodded curtly and took her seat in the back, as the class restarted. Mr. James was talking about the Civil War when Sam took out her journal and started writing again.

__

'It happened again...I wanted to rip Chelsea's throat out for damn near exposing my most guarded secret. How she came to find out about it...I haven't a clue. But I can tell that she knew; her eyes said more then she was letting on. Might as well tell what happened...inanimate objects can't pass on secrets.'

Sam picked up her head and yawned, closing her eyes as she laid her head back down on her arm.

__

It was like being transported to Oz...but everything was black. She landed on her hands and knees and looked up, through her hair, that had fallen over her face. She's astonished to see that she was staggering up against the wall of her house. A blue corridor led it's way into the living room, where a beige couch accompanied with chairs sat. The fireplace was lit, the fire burning strongly as she watched, almost transfixed on it. Other then that, the house was as silent as a cemetery. She swallows, her mind starts to remember. Within seconds the horrible memory comes back, as she hears a sudden disturbance in one of the bedrooms upstairs. Quietly, though she highly doubts she can be heard...she sneaks to the staircase that was by her when she got here, it's white and curves gently to reach the upper floor. She heads up it, gripping the banister tightly as she moves. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, she lets out a gasp.

"It's your fault they died...you stupid little girl!" hissed a voice that was full of pure hatred. Sam puts her fingers to the back of her head and winces. A crashing noise is heard next, then crying.

"-It's n-not...Mother told me to hide..." Sam listens intently outside the occupied room; her hands tremble and her heart races, she starts to feel sick. An earsplitting scream had cut the silence like an invisible knife just then.

"Everything's always your fault, Samantha...your brother's death, your cousin...your aunt, uncle and that new precious boyfriend of yours..." Sam listens to her younger self whimpering and crying. Then it comes...she covers her ears outside the room, but that does not block out the memory of the fabric ripping, the screaming, the struggling and the cynical laughter. Everything grows fuzzy...until that fuzziness is drowned out by black.

She can hear people panicking, she senses them all around. One girl screams, other people are saying that she's faking it. Suddenly, sitting up doesn't seem so difficult.

"Samantha...hey...err-what happened?"

"H-had a nightmare." She muttered, not really looking at who was helping her to stand.

"Take her to guidance, would you Jesse?"

"Right on."

"At least you're talking...that's a good sign."

Sam leaned forward, and put her head in her hands. She was back in the small conference room and it was only an hour after her previous counseling session.

"What happened? You were really shaken up when Jesse brought you to me."

"I remembered from when I was fifteen..."

"What happened?"

"A man...I can't remember who, but I know he was a relative of some sort. He blamed me for all of the deaths that happened...and he got mad..." She shook her head. There was no way he'd understand this, she barely understood herself what made him act that way.

"What did he do to you?" Jacob asked, leaning forward once again. His brown eyes trying desperately to search face as she brought her eyes up to his.

"There was so much blood...it hurt so bad." Sam watched his face turn white, and he nodded.

"And this man...what did he look like?"

"I don't remember...I tried hard to block this out, and I succeeded until I had a nightmare in class just before. I was back in my house...and I was listening to it happen. I-I felt so sick...h-how could I have let him do that to me?"

"You should know the answer to that by now. We don't ask for things like this to happen...they just do. But what we need to do now is figure out why your past is coming back, and why now. There's got to be a reason for everything that's happened to you...you just need to work with me to find it."

Part Three:

Through the next few weeks, Sam's sessions with Jacob had proven his theory: She could be strong on her own. The less sleep she got, the better. It seemed without it that she could speak better. But, to her counselor's dismay she still wouldn't talk about what had happened after she was eight. What could be worse then watching your family die at a young age...? Then finally, reaching teenage years prove to be even worse because you get raped at fifteen. Nothing, Jacob concluded as he watched her silently. Samantha's sitting with her hands almost frozen in her lap, her head low, staring intensely at them. Her wavy brown hair shielding her face from view. But for reasons unknown, it takes a great deal more now for her to bring her eyes up to meet his, once she does, he sees something flicker in those gray orbs. He watched for any sign of what she's feeling. Blankness.

"Sam...what it is?" He leaned forward more, and against all odds reached out for her hand, meanwhile, his mind is hissing at him. He knows this is wrong, what he's feeling. He's supposed to be helping her, not feeling the way that he does.

It's like she's being forced back to reality, and she pulls her hands away before he can even graze the tips of her fingers. Slowly, she stares at him directly, and he shuts his eyes. Something's terribly wrong with her now, he can see it. He squints and watches some type of smoky colored mist build around her seated body. He swallows and leans forward more, his hand still outstretched...

It's like a bullet's been shot from an invisible gun; it all happened so fast. Her fingers glide up the length of her body, and as her tank top lifts up, he notices the tattoo on her stomach but can't make it out. She clamps her fingers to her head and suddenly looks at him pleadingly, her face is pale and she's breathing heavily. It's like something's' pulling at her mind and spreading it's darkness...something wants her to remember, but she's resisting it. He lets out some type of yelp as he watches her eyes; solid gray with no pupil existing at all.

The pain is becoming so intense that she starts to whine. It's more of a wail then anything else. Still staring at her, he doesn't realize that the atmosphere has gotten softer, more light and things settle down, until Sam's eyes drifted back to their normal color and she slips off the chair. With rapt speed, he's there before she hits the ground; her fingers scraping his shoulders as he tightens his grip on her waist. Her chin settles on his shoulder and she closes her eyes, as he does the same listening to her steady breathing.

"That's enough for today...I think." He whispers shakily, as he sets her down on the couch by the window. Carefully, he paces the room, avoiding objects that could fall and wake her. He promised he'd protect her the first time her case was revealed to him. He's not new to the world of the supernatural, in fact he knew a girl that was just about Sam's age when this happened before. Her name was Elena, and she was beautiful. Dark hair, dark eyes. But she wasn't at all happy, he'd watch at times during their sessions when her lips drew back to expose her teeth, sharp as a wolves. That's when he knew that he wasn't in the real world anymore. Something happened when he was younger, that he barely talks about with his colleagues. In fact, he shuts them out entirely when it comes to his past. But Elena was too weak, she never made it...whatever 'it; was, he still hadn't figured out.

But he vowed he'd protect Sam just as he tried to do with Elena...he couldn't let someone else he loved die. He'd been through too much of that in his lifetime.

Part Four:

As Jacob sits and watches over Sam for the remainder of the day, his focus starts to sway and he shuts his eyes only for a moment to stop it. A moment is all it takes. He reopens his eyes to find himself in a bigger room then this, with a table and several chairs. His eyes scan the room and recognition hits him. His old office. A slight shifting from the corner makes his head snap there. A girl, no older then eighteen sits, crossed-legged in a comfy gray chair with wooden arm rests. She is pale with long dark hair and eyes as dark as midnight with the absence of stars. Her lips looked colorless as she smiled crookedly at him. Strangely enough, the girl's cloth resemble that of Sam's.

"Jacob..." Her voice is weak, almost rusted, it is as though she has not spoken for a decade at least. And she has good reason not to be too friendly with him at the moment.

"Elena. How are things?"

"You left me..." She looked at him savagely, her soulless eyes flashing dangerously.

"How could I stay, after what happened?" He asked, his tone indifferent from hers.

"You promised..."

"And you promised, El...you promised that you would not die."

"But I didn't...I came back to you."

"What does that mean?" He found himself suddenly kneeling in front of her. His fingers fluttered across her pale features and she shuddered. She smiled at him, revealing what looked like canine teeth; white and purely meant for a killer.

But something struck him just then. How had he never thought about it?

"I told you that I'd come back....sooner or later, you were bound to believe me."

"Why?"

"You were bound to me by fate...and now you are bound to that girl." He knew whom Elena meant. He was now bound to Samantha...but why?

"Answer me...why am I bound to her now?"

"Are you that naive Jacob; can you not think of a valid reason?"

He hadn't had time to think about it before she spoke again. Still, the answer lingered on the tip of his tongue.

"Surely you remembered my last words? I told you that I'd be with you again...in another time...another body would be mine for the taking."

"Samantha."

"Very good...yes."

"But how...I thought the only way you could do that was if..."

"Now you're getting it. Yes, the only way I could get a body was to wait until that girls dying day...which was exactly ten years ago."

He could feel his fingers still flowing over the curves of her cheekbone, her jaw...tracing her lips until she started.

"What are you doing?" She whispered. It was a different voice this time. He opened his eyes and stared into the face of Samantha Coleman.

"I-I'm sorry..."

"Are you, really?" He blinked as an eerie smile curled on her lips. He slid back, away from her.

"Elena?" He stood as the girl sat up, everything was different now. This was no longer Sam-the pretty girl with the nightmares-this was a monstrous being, a child of darkness. Long black hair flowed down her back, eyes like a predator staring straight at him.

"Where's Sam?" He snarled, baring his teeth. He slowly ran his tongue over his teeth and winced. _No..._He could feel the canine-like fangs growing.

"Would you believe she, herself, got tired of this body? It's at my disposal now..."

"Give it back...it doesn't belong to you!"

"Neither did my life!" Elena cried, outraged at him. His eyes widened slowly and he tilted his head.

"What do you mean?"

"For as long as I could remember when my family died and I was ripped apart at fifteen...." She stopped as he scrambled backward, horribly frightened and feeling sick.

"_ This had nothing to do with Sam?_" He couldn't believe this was happening.

"Those were all my nightmares. Samantha Coleman does not exist...anymore." Elena smiled sinisterly at him, her eyes holding some type of twisted joy.

"You've been helping a lingering soul get back to the world of the living. You're helping me turn them all."

"That's not fair...they don't deserve to die."

"I DIDN'T DESERVE TO DIE, EITHER!"

"Some you're just doing this for spite? You evil-twisted-!" He never got to finish his sentence because at the next instant he was thrown into the wall. While he crumbled to the floor, she knelt down beside him.

"Careful Jacob...remember...you killed for spite long ago as well."

He struggled to look up at her, his face bruised. He winced as he was able to get into a sitting position.

"Do you remember...?"

"I...."

"Perhaps-I should refresh your memory. Her name was Veronica, and she loved you. You thought she was just playing with you...and so you hunted her down one night and killed her. Now, I ask myself...how had you managed to stay so _human_ for a decade? I couldn't figure it out...but then I remembered something my father told me: 'We can only trick ourselves for so long...sooner or later, we have to hunt.' What have you hunted, Jacob? I saw no reports of any murders...do you desire human blood no longer? It seems like such a waste. Our kind was meant for the thrill of the hunt. Perhaps you lack the essence of the vampire, as you were human for so long?"

With the explanation etched into his mind now, he could think of nothing more to say. She had spoken the truth for him. What had carried on for more then a decade was what he had hidden from everyone. Acceptance for him was unlikely now. Slowly, he let out a growl and hoisted himself up, she rose slowly, as well. Her predator eyes flickered.

"What will you do? It'd be a shame to destroy such lovely memories...I could make you forget her though..." Before he knew what was occurring she was pressing her body into his, her lips laying small kisses on his neck. Slowly he closed his eyes as the pinch happened.

Images flood through his mind, his fathers mouth on his neck, the sinking feeling that coursed through Jacob as he flees. His fangs are as sharp as blades when he stood in front of the mirror at school. He's an eight-year-old vampire with an absent in his life. Then Elena Carter steps into his life. Things change...Elena reveals that she hunted for blood. Friendship builds. Though adolescence is what takes it's toll on the two.

He finally remembers when Elena was fifteen and the pain she went through. She had closed herself off from the world. Jacob remembered even before that when her family was in danger. Everything that Elena had went through...he felt it. And he feels it now; the sadness, the slow building happiness...even the pain. Everything they'd worked so hard for led to this moment.

"Come back with me..."

"I suppose my past will always be here...won't it?"

"It's important. Your past makes you special...it makes you who you were meant to become Jacob."


End file.
